The early-morning chatter died down as the mercs looked over the unexpected visitor standing in the doorway. Was this good news or bad news?
"Hey Miss Pauling! How are you doin' this morning?" the Scout greeted her enthusiastically. "Nice of you to pay me a visit!"
"Actually, Scout, I'm here to meet with the Pyro. I'm sure you understand," the young woman replied. Scout just looked crestfallen, but she paid him no mind.
"Oh… hello…" Joan said, not sure how she should feel about this. She became even more unsure when Miss Pauling smiled warmly and asked her if she would mind talking in private for a few minutes, but she reluctantly agreed, and the two women stepped aside.
"You don't need to look so worried, Pyro," Miss Pauling assured her. "We're not docking your pay or firing you or anything like that." Joan seemed to relax a bit. "The revelation of your identity has caused quite a stir hasn't it? The Administrator has found the whole ordeal quite fascinating."
"Is that… good?"
Miss Pauling just shrugged. "Anyway, I just wanted to tell you that I approve of what you're doing. This is sort of a milestone for Mann Co., you see. We've been wondering for a long time whether we should start hiring female mercenaries, so this revelation was quite timely."
Joan just sighed and looked at the floor, feeling a heavy burden on her heart. "When I realized I was sort of representing all women here, I had no idea it was quite that literal."
Miss Pauling frowned. "No pressure, Pyro. I don't want you thinking our decisions hinge on your performance alone. The Administrator is much more thorough and calculating than that." That wasn't exactly encouraging, either.
"How many women are in the management, besides you and the Administrator, if you don't mind me asking?"
"I'm afraid that's confidential information," Miss Pauling replied apologetically. "But what I can tell you is that you are the only woman actually out on the battlefield, and the Administrator and I wanted to welcome you as such. A bit late perhaps, but there you have it. We think that what you're doing is very important, and not just for Mann Co. It's a step towards equality."
"Everyone has to do their part," Joan agreed. "It's never much, but every bit counts. And we go through hell for it."
"We're fighting centuries of built up hatred and oppression. It's woven into the culture, I'm afraid, and we have to undo it stitch by stitch. It's not easy," Miss Pauling said with a sage nod. "Things aren't going to change overnight, unfortunately."
"We've come a long way though, haven't we?" the Pyro pointed out.
"Oh, absolutely! We have a long way to go, still, but we're making progress."
"I should thank you, too, Miss Pauling. For doing your part."
The woman in purple nodded. "I felt hopeless, growing up. Like my future wasn't my own to control. It was hard, resisting the culture around me that told me all I needed was a house, children, and a husband. I didn't want that, and I couldn't understand why."
"I know exactly how you feel," Joan said, nodding. "It hurts, doesn't it? The whole world telling you that you should only want one thing in life because you're a woman, and if you don't, if you dare to be different, there's something horribly wrong with you."
"Exactly. And I didn't understand it – I didn't understand myself. When I read The Feminine Mystique, it all fell into place. It was like having blinders taken off," Miss Pauling said. "I'd taken my job at Mann Co. temporarily. I mean, that's what young women were expected to do – just get a simple job to keep us afloat until we get married. But after reading that book, it gave me the courage to do something with my life. So I turned my temporary job into a career, and I plan to stay here. I don't regret it."
"I wouldn't either. Especially working for Mann Co. It's… a lot better than many other companies, as far as opportunities for women," Joan agreed.
Miss Pauling nodded. "With the Administrator in charge, there's no glass ceiling. How she got such a position of power in the first place, I don't know. I don't plan to ask. But because of her I've had opportunities to do more with my work than just greet people at a front desk or fetch coffee all day. We're lucky to work here."
"There are times I don't feel so lucky. There are times it's… tough. But you're right. We're better off here than in a lot of other companies. Do you really think we're making a difference?"
"A small one," Miss Pauling admitted. "But isn't a beach made up of tiny grains of sand? The smallest things can add up to something huge." She looked at her watch. "Oh! Sorry, I have to go. Anyway, I wanted to thank you and encourage you, Pyro. And wish you luck, as well. You're doing something meaningful, and you should feel proud."
"You too, Miss Pauling!"
Miss Pauling left with a warm and fuzzy feeling, and a new glimmer of hope in her heart.
As morning shifted to afternoon, some members of the team started focusing on strategy, while others continued resting. Joan decided to find Mick. She didn't have any particular reason to, but she enjoyed his company. Naturally, the first place she looked was the bunker, and while he was there, he was not keeping watch, as she would have expected. Instead, he was sitting on a box in the corner with a pad of paper and a pen.
He glanced up. "G'day. What'd Pauling want? Everything alright?"
Joan smiled. "Everything's fine. She just wanted to talk and offer some encouragement."
"Good. I was a bit worried," the Sniper replied. "I never know what to expect when she shows up. You feeling better today?"
The Pyro nodded. She sat down on a crate next to him. "What are you doing?"
Mick grinned, rather sheepishly. "Slacking off," he admitted, with a hint of shame in his voice. Joan just laughed. "Writing, actually," he clarified. "Bad science fiction. It's something of a guilty hobby of mine."
"I'm sure it's not that bad. Do you mind if I take a look?"
"Why not?" He handed it to her and waited patiently while she read it, occasionally glancing out the window to see if anything was going on.
After a while, Joan handed the pad of paper back to Mick. "You should publish a novel," she told him. "Your writing is better than you think it is."
"Eh. Maybe someday," he replied.
The Pyro looked out the window. "Thanks again, for your support. You're always there for me when I need you."
"You'd do the same for me, I'm sure," the Sniper replied.
Joan turned to smile at him and was caught off-guard. She knew what she was seeing wasn't there, and she tried to ignore them, despite how solid and real the wings folded neatly behind Mick's back looked. She could see every feather, clear as day: pale tan banded with brown, resembling the wings of the red-tailed hawks that sometimes circled over Teufort, watching and striking from afar like angels of death. The Pyro looked away and tried to act normal. If she ignored the hallucinations, they would go away.
"You alright, mate?" the Sniper asked.
"I… just… Give me a moment, please." Joan shut her eyes and took a few deep breaths. When she looked back, the wings were gone. "I'm alright now. I was just having a mild hallucination."
"Seeing angels again?" Mick asked, remembering what she'd told him that night when they were looking at the stars.
The Pyro hesitated for a moment before replying, "Well… Something like that."
Thank you to TheRavenBlade for the basic ideas for some of the animals used as motifs (the hawk, and one in a later chapter).